


Leave the Pieces

by RipleyAnastasia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, One Shot, They are both of age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:06:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipleyAnastasia/pseuds/RipleyAnastasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you want?” Stiles asked Derek tiredly. Stiles ran a hand over his hair, licked his lips. And he was tired. He was tired of fighting, of tense silences, and of always waiting for the other shoe to drop.</p><p>Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> So I was listening to Leave the Pieces by The Wreckers and this happened. Sorry not sorry. Un beta'd

“What do you want?” Stiles asked Derek tiredly. Stiles ran a hand over his hair, licked his lips. And he _was_ tired. He was tired of fighting, of tense silences, and of always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.  He looked down at his feet. They were standing on opposite sides of the living room.

“Are you still in love with me?” Stiles asked the man in front of him, the man who did not look like the man he first met all those years ago. That Derek was dark and jaded, confident and silent and menacing. This Derek was unsure and worn out, soft and timid. Derek looked at Stiles, shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Of course I still love you,” he replied.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“What’s the difference?” Derek asked, looking up. He looked right into Stiles’ whiskey colored eyes and yearned for a time when he could fall into them, fall into Stiles.

“You very well know the difference, Derek.” Stiles replied. Derek didn’t say anything, which, in itself, was an answer. 

Stiles sighed, rubbed his face with his hands. “Okay.” That was all he said, all he had to say.

Derek just looked away. There was a long silence. He glanced around their shared living room, very pointedly looking anywhere _but_ at Stiles. There was evidence all over the place that they had once been truly happy. There were pictures of smiles and of kisses and of loving faces; souvenirs from shared vacations and road trips. Now they weren’t even _fine_. They hadn’t been fine in a long time.

“I’m going to take a long walk. Maybe get some coffee. I want you gone by the time I get back,” Stiles finally said, crossing the living room and shrugging his jacket on. He slid his shoes on and grabbed his keys.

“Stiles…” Derek pleaded.

“No, Derek. Just stop.” Stiles held a hand up, licked his lips again. “I’ve made up my mind because you can’t. I know you don’t want to hurt me, but I need you to go and I need you to not worry about me because I’ll be fine. Just make sure you leave every single piece of me when you go. Okay?” Stiles looked at Derek. He wasn’t angry or upset or anything. He was just _done_.

“Okay,” Derek replied quietly. “Okay.”

Stiles nodded at Derek and walked out, leaving him alone with the mess he made.

And Derek did. Derek was gone, and he left Stiles to pick up the pieces of his own heart. Stiles missed him fiercely, but never regretted his decision, because he knew he did the right thing for himself. Derek left-Stiles told him to. And he regretted and thought and wished and hoped every day.


End file.
